


Breakable

by cy_chase



Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, i blame feelschat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cy_chase/pseuds/cy_chase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is definitely not fidgeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakable

Tony is definitely not fidgeting under Agent Coulson's steady gaze, because checking his email is a very important task for a very important person such as himself. The fact that it precludes eye contact is totally coincidental, and anyway, he can multitask, he's been multitasking since he was in the womb.

"Stark."

"Phil," Tony offers amiably, still tapping at his phone. Coulson does not sigh.

"Stark, if you break Captain America, tazing is going to be the least of your worries."

_That_ makes Tony look up, eyebrows raised. "How did you--" Coulson simply continues to look at him, with those I-know-everything-and-you-should-get-used-to-it eyes, and Tony relents, whining, "Is he getting this lecture? How come everybody thinks _I'm_ going to do the breaking, here? I'm breakable, you know!"

"Out of my office, Stark," Coulson orders, head bent back to paperwork already, pen scratching steadily. Stark turns for the door, no doubt with a trademark eyeroll, and Coulson starts to tap his earpiece to call in Barton when Hawkeye himself drops from the ceiling, a hairsbreadth from Stark.

Neither man starts, because both have grown uncomfortably accustomed to Barton's affinity for mimicking spiders, so Coulson continues writing; Tony turns his head. "Clint! Hey, buddy, I'm breakable, aren't I?"

Clint looks thoughtful. "With an arrow?"

"Not helping, Barton, not helping. Never mind, I have lots of work to do, important billionaire work, and it's obviously your turn for a one-line Coulson lecture, so I'm outta here."

Phil carefully sets his pen down when the door shuts behind Tony, and Clint rocks back on his heels, grinning. "It's not nice to tattle on your teammates, Barton."

" _Do_ I get a lecture? Here, here, let me: 'Specialist Barton, it's obvious that the Avengers would die horrible horrible deaths without me to keep them in line, so if you break me, you're going to die a horrible, horrible death.' How was that?"

"It's also not nice to spy on your teammates."

"Oh, c'mon, it wasn't _spying_ , I was behind a potted plant, for fuck's sake! They were just too busy to notice." Clint was wandering steadily closer, leaning over Phil's desk, hands settled strategically over the forms neatly stacked there.

"And as soon as you realized what was going on, you quickly left the room?"

"Are you kidding? We're talking about _Captain America_ , here. _Naked_."

Coulson's lips twitch, and Clint grins, because it totally counts as a smile, and steals a kiss, relishing the utter lack of protest. "Go make yourself useful, Barton," Phil says, sitting back in his chair, but there's no heat in his glare.

"Off to the range," is Clint's cheerful agreement. "See you later, Sir."

"Barton," Phil says, as the sniper hoists himself back into the drop ceiling rather than using the door. 

"Coulson." His head emerges from the hole, observing Phil upside-down.

"Stark is known for breaking his toys. You've taken better care of yours."

The beaming smile and quick salute are well-worth the admission to Phil, and he smiles to himself as he returns to his work.


End file.
